


and the lies i weave are oh so intricate

by doldrums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, One Shot, harry is his model, harry's always late to photo shoots, louis is a fashion designer, there's a blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doldrums/pseuds/doldrums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is Louis' model and he's always late to work. Louis may or may not want to fuck him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the lies i weave are oh so intricate

**Author's Note:**

> title from fall out boy's this ain't a scene, it's an arms race
> 
> this is really bad just a fair warning idk

“Where is Harry? Jesus, we need Harry for the photo shoot. Did you finish his hair? Did you add the light make-up, the bronzer? Oh my God, guys. We need to get our shit together. Find Harry. Start snapping the pictures. I want good ones- all angles.” Louis Tomlinson sides into his hands, flipping through the first picture’s that had been taken earlier today. Black and white themed, it was, with a dash of vintage culture and soft grunge. That was what Louis was going for.

Louis; sometimes known as Mr. Tomlinson, was a fashion designer who took the part on photo shoots and creating the outfits to go in them. He was well known in the fashion business, and he profited more than enough to live off of every year. Louis sported a pair of black, rectangle glasses, adding to his sophisticated look. Louis was twenty-six years old. Single, lived alone, didn’t have many friends but his fashion partner Zayn Malik, but Louis wasn’t sure if that was friendships or simple partnership in co-workers. He also sometimes talked to a worker in his studio (where Louis created outfits) called Liam Payne. Sometimes he talked to the smoothie-maker on the bottom floor, Niall Horan. Louis didn’t know if he was just or smoothie-maker or if he had other jobs. But the four of them all sat together at lunch, exchanging decent enough conversation.

At the moment, Louis is very stressed. His young model called Harry Styles had ran off again; Louis had no idea where the boy kept going but he disappeared nearly every other second. Louis wouldn’t have hired him if Zayn wouldn’t have insisted “he’s perfect for the vintage look. Just look at the boy!” Zayn had pointed to a picture of Harry, a curly lad with a sharp jawline, muscular legs and arms, and a very much perfect face. Harry was twenty-two. Still a boy in Louis’s eyes. Louis couldn’t believe he’s gotten himself into this mess, a young one who’d only modeled once before. And now, he’s run off again.

Zayn slid next to Louis in a fold-out chair, “has the kid run off again?” Zayn’s twenty-five and very much mature. The only difference between Louis and Zayn was the Zayn was married to his wife Perrie and Louis was bitter and single, not exactly heterosexual. Louis was gay. And someone as bitter as Louis, wasn’t going to find anyone to go out with any time soon. It didn’t matter, though, because he was much too busy right now.

“The kid has indeed run off again, yeah. Maybe he just needed a—” Louis was cut off by the returned appearance of the one and only Harry Styles saying, like his disappearance was okay, “back”, at least, he was finally back from his unexcused break time.

“Where were you?” Louis demanded, “we should have started thirty minutes ago. These shots have to be sent to the company by five, and it’s already three thirty. You can’t run off like that—” Louis was cut off for the second time too many, but this by his partner Zayn.

“Relax, mate. There’s only around one hundred more shots. And there all just different angles. We’re going to be fine. The kid must’ve needed some air, or something, yeah?” Louis nodded to Zayn’s response, but didn’t see the need of why the Harry needed air in a ginormous room, only full of ten or so people that were responsible for taking pictures, not getting in one’s space.

“Thanks. Mr. Malik,” Harry smiled at Zayn, “just need some air, yeah.”

“Call me Zayn,” Zayn smiled back at Harry. Louis already felt the need to projectile vomit by the sight of friendship blooming in front of him. Nice things— weren’t his thing.

“Sorry, Louis,” Harry apologized, but didn’t look the least bit sorry. Louis doesn't think apologies were going to make up for the loss of time that had just occurred (the 'loss' had probably already caused a few perfect pictures that could have been taken but weren't).

“Call me Mr. Tomlinson. I’m your boss, not your friend.” Louis snapped, averting his eyes anywhere else but the childish figure standing before him, “alright, Marlene, Janice, Ryan and Joe start snapping shots of Harry in the vintage brown suit from a fifty degree angle.” Four of Louis’s workers scrambled to get the job done, fitting Harry’s outfit. As Louis watched, Harry began to smirk at Louis. How completely derogatory! Louis did not need to be smirked at, nor smiled at. Louis threw a glare in Harry’s direction to prove this point. Harry smirked again, this time wider. Louis glared again, curving his browns and adding a frown— his coldest look. Harry smirked once more. Louis glared again. Louis was starting took get agitated and the coquettish Harry that kept smirking. Harry was growing to hate that smirk in a matter of two minutes time. This went on for God knows who long, and the boy didn’t even stop.

“Alright, picture time,” Marlene chirped, and that was when Harry stopping smirking and posed in front the white wall, smiling this time- generously at the camera before him. Louis averted his gaze somewhere else while they shot.

“You a high-class ass, Louis.” Zayn told Louis as Marlene and the others shot pictures.

“What might I have done, Zayn?” Sighing loudly to make another point, Louis asked him this.

“You glared at a boy who was smiling at a camera, and before that you said he could only call you Mr. Tomlinson when he’s not much younger than you are,” Zayn explained.

“Wrong, Zayn Malik. He was smirking at me and you know I don’t like smiles. Much too cheerful. And he was late to my photo shoot when he should’ve been posing, that’s childish; and childish people don’t get to call me by my first name.” Louis retorted, crossing his arms and tearing his gaze yet again from Harry Styles. Louis didn’t understand why everyone felt the need to talk about them. He’s just another model they’ll have for a couple months, like the one before him, and the one before that one.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with you,” Zayn let out a heavy breath meant to be a sigh. Louis assumed he was breathing like that just to annoy him.

“This isn’t friendship, this is partnership as workers.” Louis chose not to talk after that until the photo shoot had ended. Didn’t want to waste his breath on people who weren’t going to listen.

The photo shoot had ended, and Louis was left in the big room sending out the pictures via email, quickly before five o’clock. The room was dark and dimly lit by a small lap and the light of Louis’s laptop. Louis’s glasses reflected the screen of his computer as he sent emails out to clients.

Sure enough, he wasn’t alone. An hour after they’d finished shooting, Harry Styles was standing in front of him, “have you seen my bag? I left it here— it’s got all of my school work. I really need it, they’re college assignments. Important.” Harry emphasized on ‘important’.

“No, I haven’t.” Louis shrugged, clearly not seeing any importance in a school-boy’s school issues. “That sounds like a you problem.” Louis then added.

“What is your problem with me?” Harry’s voice was thick with his Cheshire accent and the desperation to find his bloody bag with Louis’s help. Not going to happen. Louis’s purpose in the world was not to find Harry Styles’ school bag.

“I don’t have a problem with you,” Louis lied, sending another email. And another.

“But you do.” Harry retorted, placing his elbows at the middle of Louis’s desk, in Louis’s proximity of space. Too close. Much, much too close for Louis’s comfort.

“Maybe my problem is that you’re always late to work.” Though it wasn’t Louis’s problem, it was a good enough excuse to use.

As Harry leaned in Louis noticed that sharp jaw-bone again. And the pretty blue eyes. They reminded Louis of the sky, but Louis wasn’t willing to admit that, because it sounded much to cheesy for his own liking. Louis also noticed his pretty brown curly hair. It made him look young but the rest of him showed differently, considering the muscly arms and the firm green eyes and the muscular long, almost lanky legs. No, no, absolutely not. Louis isn’t thinking this. Louis only finds professionals attractive. Ones who aren’t late to work, and ones who don’t disappear when they feel the need. No, no. Louis wasn’t doing this. He was just tired. His day was full of yelling and too much work.

“That’s not something to be mad about, if it only happened a couple of times. You can’t hate me for having a life.” Harry looked frustrated, the kind of frustrated where his brows frowned and his eyes looked annoyed. It looked kind of hot, to Louis. But that didn’t matter.

“You also kept smirking at me today. I don’t like smirks.” Louis added, searching for new ways to come up with his unexplained hatred for the curly haired lad that hadn’t done anything to him.

“It’s called smiling. You were glaring at me because I smiled, you need to be happy. You’re alone, aren’t you? You have the type of face that looks like you’re lonely.” Harry was smiling that god damned smile again, “you’re single and bitter.”

“Single and bitter, maybe. But that doesn’t really matter. This is work. Go find your bag and go home, while I do the rest of this work, that I would have gotten done before if you didn’t disappear and make me late.” Louis snapped, pointing for Harry to go away from him. Louis wanted him away.

“Fine. Whatever.” Harry waved a hand as if to say yet again, “whatever.” Louis watched the muscles in his back flex as he walked away, each making a crease in his T-Shirt as he did.

This was fucking ridiculous. Louis was finding his model attractive. Attractive. And Louis is four years older than him, for God’s sake! The kid’s still in school. Louis is working as a top fashion designer in the UK, finding a school student model that’s only doing it for the money, attractive. What the hell is Louis doing? He must be so lonely that he’s not thinking straight. Or tired. Maybe he just needs a good cup of tea and a night’s rest before tomorrow.

“Fine. Whatever.” Louis yelled in a loud mocking tone, causing Harry to turn around. Louis kind of wanted him to turn around.

“Smooth, Louis.” Harry called him by his first name.

“Go find your bag, pretty boy.” Louis waved him off, smiling just a little bit to himself. He had expected Harry to have been gone by the time he looked up, but instead Harry was a few feet away from him, his arms crossed and smirking yet again at Louis.

“Hmm, pretty boy. Is that compliment?” Harry’s tone was seductive and playful at the same time. Louis hated it. Curse Harry fucking Styles for managing to make Louis turned on by a seductive tone. Fuck Harry Styles. Fuck him.

“Sure.” Louis was doing his best to remain calm, he added a shrug to double his “I’m calm effect.” Succeeding? He didn’t think so. Harry’s seductive voice was still playing in his head. Replay, replay, replay. ‘Hmmm, pretty boy. Is that a compliment?’

“Obviously, it is.” Seductive voice again. Before Louis thought Harry was simply a shy boy who was in school and modeling for money, a sweet kid with no personality. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong, wrong. To Louis, Harry Styles was probably Satan in disguise. Maybe. Something dramatic like that. Louis didn’t like Harry’s attitude. And he really, really didn’t like his seductive tone. Not at all. Was he even trying to be seductive? Louis didn’t know. Whatever it was, it was working. Or not. No, it wasn’t working.

Louis didn’t respond, so Harry spoke again. “To be fair, you’re not that bad looking yourself. Maybe, just maybe not bad looking at all.” Then Harry was striding away before Louis had the chance to open his mouth and say a sassy comment to him in return.

The next day came. Louis spent the night finishing his work on his laptop and returning to his flat, making a hot cup of tea and watching reruns of Top Chef. That was how Louis’s life went. He worked, made a few outfits here and there when he felt like it, set up photo shoots, and then the money rolled in. Though he had lots of money, he wasn’t happy. Someone as well-known as him in fashion business, you would think would have someone to be tied down to, but not Louis. He didn’t even think he could find a man he liked anyways.

Louis also spent the night telling Harry Styles curse words through mind. Metaphorically speaking, anyways.

Now it was the next day, and Louis was at the lunch table, eating lunch with the people he usually did. Liam, Niall and Zayn. They usually ate silently, as Zayn was the only chatty one and Niall was too busy eating whatever he brought- usually a smoothie and crisps-, Liam wasn’t a talker and Louis was too much of a bitter asshole to make conversation without complaining about something.

But this time, Zayn spoke up, “Harry’s coming back in today, Louis.”

“Why? Isn’t he done?” Louis asked, shoving a chip into his mouth following before a gulp of caffeinated Diet Coke. Louis was hoping Harry was done, as Louis was simply done with Harry. Done with the pretty face and done with the snotty attitude. And he’s only known him for a couple of weeks. Louis was the definition of a childish prick.

“Nah, he’s a permanent model for Tomlinson Designs, mate. I set this up yesterday last night with Harry over the phone. He said he’d be happy to join us until he got a real job.”

“What? Zayn. You just said the name of the company. Notice it’s called Tomlinson Designs which means Tomlinson, as in me, hires people. It does not say Malik Designs, therefore, I do the hiring and firing. Now I’m going to go and fire Harry Styles, thanks.”

“Don’t fire him. He’s good for the vintage menswear. You know that.”

“Well he’s a pain in the ass, too.” Louis retorts.

“Give him a chance.”

“Fine, fine.” Louis didn’t bother throwing his left over food away, but instead got up to start taking pictures for the start of the god damned vintage menswear unit. When he got to the room again, Harry was already there, this time, not late.

Marlene and Janice were attempting at fixing his collar in a fashionable manner, doing it completely wrong. Louis had to go and fix it. He directly walked to Marlene and Janice, using his most kind way to tell them to leave so Louis could fix it. They did, and Louis was left with a smug looking Harry.

“What’re you smirking at?” Louis questioned as he straightened about Harry’s collar, tucking ends in and making sure to get the back. Louis’s fingertips brushed the tan skin along Harry’s neck. It was warm.

“You look dashing with your shirt folded halfway up, Louis.” Harry looked down with his eyebrows raised. Louis followed Harry’s gaze, realizing his shirt was folded halfway up, exposing slightly undefined muscles beneath his shirt. Hastily, Louis pulled his shirt back down, fully covering the skin that was exposed before.

“Now you look dashing with your shirt folded up.” Louis had tugged Harry’s shirt up, exposing a chiseled stomach lined with abs that looked rock hard and much more defined than Louis’s were.

“I think you only did that to see my stomach.” Harry claimed, his face only inches from Harry’s.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Louis was smirking now. And Louis hated smirks. Now, Louis pulled Harry’s shirt back down, and tucked it in for him, his fingers touching Harry’s abdomen. Louis took that chance to rub his thumb over the skin along it. Harry eyed Louis, who’d been tucking in Harry’s shirt for much longer than actually needed.

“Now I can just feel the sexual tension here, but, we have to start the shoot” Zayn was now in between them, staring at Louis with a smug, kind of annoying expression.

“No sexual tension. We hate each other.” Harry winked at Louis, strutting away rather annoyingly to the crowd of camera men waiting for him. Louis ran a hand through his own hair, what the hell had just happened?

“Don’t fuck him, Louis. I know what you’re doing. You’re going to fuck him.” Zayn was scolding. Louis was not going to fuck him. He’s four years younger, and Louis doesn’t do those things. He doesn’t become attached to people. Plus, Louis is a grown man! He doesn’t need Zayn telling him what he can and can’t do.

“I’m not going to do any such thing.” Louis brushed past Zayn, grinning halfway to himself. He would fuck Harry if he wanted. Actually- he's going to fuck him eventually. 

“I’m being serious Louis, don’t fuck him. I don’t think he’s the type of person; like you, who would fuck someone and ditch them. I’ve talked to him before, he’s too nice and you’re too.. you. Don’t do it.”

“I’m too me? I might just take that as an insult, Zayn.” Louis then caught Harry in mid-smirk ten feet away from him, staring directly at Louis. Louis looked smugly in his direction— but didn’t smile back.

“That’s because it is an insult, my dear friend. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but you’re a fucking ass and Harry seems like a sweet guy. Is he even gay?” Zayn replied. Louis furrowed his brows. Come to think of it— Louis didn’t know if Harry was gay. He was assuming that he was by the innuendo Louis got from the air of him. If he wasn’t gay, it’s not like it would be a problem. He doesn’t mean anything to Louis. Obviously.

“I dunno, didn’t ask.” Louis shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Obviously it does, when you find him as hot as you do. I can tell. Surprised it’s not showing, if you know what I mean.” Zayn nodded to Louis’s lower parts.

“Zayn fucking Malik that is completely derogatory! That would never, never happen.”

“Whatever you say, Lou. Whatever you say…”

“It’s Louis.” Louis corrected, rolling his eyes. Zayn then walked away, holding a smug fucking look that was similar to Harry’s, but not hot like Harry’s.

Louis wondered how it took a span of two days for Louis to suddenly find Harry Styles hot, when he’s known him for nearly two months.

Then, the shoot ended, and the workers were already leaving. Now Zayn, Harry, Louis, Niall, and Liam were alone. Niall was scraping up the last of his papers (Louis realized Niall actually was a worker, not just a smoothie-man) and Zayn was watching Louis suspiciously, while Liam was simply out of it, like always. Too consumed in his work. That left Harry and Louis. Louis, was throwing glares to Harry as Harry was smiling at him. Louis would say this was a form of flirting.

“Bye, lads,” Niall waved off, carrying his papers out of the building. Liam followed after him, leaving Zayn and Harry and Louis.

“You can go now, Zayn. You don’t have anything else to do.” Louis sighed.

“I don’t think I will.”

“I’m not going to fuck Harry, alright? Not my type.” Louis added a glare for Harry, and then a harsh, not so playful glare for Zayn.

“Fine. See you tomorrow.” Zayn was strutting out of the main door and it shut behind him. A smile appeared over Harry’s face, and his mouth opened. Louis practically knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

And Louis was right. “I’m not going to fuck Harry, not my type.” Harry mocked, and Louis had the overwhelming urge to punch him but a whole lot of different urges that he wasn’t going to bother thinking about right now, or what Zayn suggested earlier was going to end up happening (not that he'd mind it, of course. He may or may not be thinking about sucking Harry's cock right now.)

“You were lying.” Harry added, looking very confident.

“Was I now?” Louis asked his model, actually smiling. Smiling.

“You were.” Harry confirmed.

“And which part might I have been lying about, you not being my type or me not going to fuck you when Zayn left?” Louis was tempted to wriggle his eyebrows in a suggestive manner but chose very well not to.

“Both.” Harry had a self-satisfied smirk set across his face. “Both indeed.”

“How very dare you, I am not that kind of man.” Louis said sarcastically, noticing he was nearly leaning into Harry’s chest now. Even though Harry was younger, he was still abnormally taller than Louis. Louis had to look up to talk to him. Or not very much talk, more like seductively flirt. Maybe not as seductive as Harry was being, but enough.

“You aren’t?” Harry made it sound like a question.

“I am very well not.” Louis muttered back.

“We’ll see about that particular matter. But for now, I must go and study for my exams. Night, Tomlinson.” The saying of exams made Louis remember how childish he was being for going over drive on flirting with someone so young. Maybe not that young; God knows Louis though he was a grown man at twenty-two. Harry probably feels the same way. Louis needs to stop using young as an excuse of not just fucking the boy already. He should probably not call him “the boy” anymore, too.

“I hope you fail your exams,” Louis called out cheerfully, playfully.

“Have fun fucking yourself at the thought of me tonight.” Harry’s tone was equally as playful but Louis was quite surprised with the fact the Harry would actually say that to him. “Don’t have too much fun.” Harry added.

“Duly noted. But not gonna happen.” Louis laughed out loud. “G’night, tosser.” Harry turned to walk out of the room, leaving Louis alone again with his thoughts. Jesus Christ, Harry Styles was much too fit. Louis thinks it's not fair.

The next day, Louis woke up feeling energized. Cheerful to start the day, this is a first since the year two thousand BC, Louis thinks, as he hasn’t felt decent enough to even get up from bed since then, it seems. When Louis got to work, he was even more scarily in a good mood. He even managed to say “good morning” to his receptionist on the way up to the photo shoot floor. She gave him an odd look and Louis was sure she mumbled “what the hell,” under her breath. Was Louis being in a decent mood such a surprise?

When he took a lift to the photo-shoot room, Harry was already waiting there. But it wasn’t his turn for pictures yet, the women model named Sophie was modeling the women’s vintage selection. Harry was off to the side with a book flipped open. It was Saturday, what’s he doing with a book on Saturday? Louis chose to sit next to him.

“Hullo,” Louis said.

“Erm, hi. D’you happen to know how to find Surface Area? I’ve forgotten the equation I need it to finish the rest of this problem.”

“Ugh, college math. Such a drag. What’re you in, intermediate or full on college algebra?” Louis changed the subject, as he had no fucking idea what Surface Area was and he didn’t even know it was an equation until Harry had said.

“College. I need it, as I’m going in teaching.”

“Interesting. I’m sorry to inform you that I don’t have a bloody clue what Surface Area is let alone, why there’s a weird symbol in that problem right there,” Louis pointed to the strange thing Harry was working on at the moment. “I did not go to college, as I thought it was a waste of time, and I don’t remember shit from the time I was in school to now so.. “

“It’s fine. I’ll look it up later, but I’m done with this for now,” Harry sighed loudly, rubbing his temples. “I have a headache and it will not go away.”

“Aw, is poor ickle Harry actually weakened and not cocky for once? Holy shit, this is going in my memory book.” Louis exclaimed. He loved pissing people off. And he did it extra loud to make sure of making his headache worse. Maybe Louis was an awful person.

“Shut upppp. Why am I even talking to you? You’re an awful person.” Harry had a hint of a smile across his face, despite his claimed headache, so Louis wasn’t buying is semi-harsh words.

“Awful, maybe. Come to think of it, I was actually wondering why I’m talking to you right now. Two days ago I could barely look at you without wanting to cut out my eyes and sell them to a black market. Now I’m sitting here and tolerating you. Maybe even liking you enough to keep talking to you. That’s pretty insane.” Louis was trying to lighten the mood from Harry’s headache.

“For a fashion designer you’d think you would be cheerful and full of light and ideas, mate. You’re like, the opposite of cheerful, the color black describes you perfectly and I’m still not convinced you’ve came up with these clothes. Harry gestured to the rack of clothes hanging for the shoot.

“But I did indeed. I’m just not your average fashion designer. Plus, I don’t like that word. It makes me sound gay-er than I really am. I’m not the type of gay to run fashion shows, yet, here I am.” Louis smiled. He just admitted he was gay. He’d essentially thought that out so Harry would know that Louis liked men and Harry would gladly be accepted in Louis’s liking of men.

“Ah, so you’re gay.” Harry confirmed.

“Yeah, quite happy right now, honestly.” Louis referred to gay as in happy, to confuse the already annoyed Harry in front of him. Well, Louis didn’t know if that was annoyance or the way he always spoke.

“Shut up, but really, you are?” Confusing him didn’t work.

“Aren’t you? You’re looking rather not straight today if I do say so myself.” Teasing. Louis was teasing. God, Louis was going to regret all of this flirting later.

“I thought that was much more than obvious considering last night, Louis. Or are you oblivious to signs?” So that was his confirmation. Harry was gay. Not that that really mattered to Louis. Not at all. Louis was only curious and that is why Louis had wanted to know. God, wait, who is he kidding. Louis already had a thing for Harry, no sense in hiding it to himself. Maybe to Harry, but not to himself, because that would be weird.

“Hmmm. Oblivious.”

The day went well. Harry didn’t disappear, and Louis and Harry actually talked like friends, for once not trying to piss one another off of flirt with each other until Louis wanted to rip Harry’s clothes off. The whole day actually went smoothly. And when it ended, no one stuck around for Louis and Harry. Louis figured they all knew Louis was probably going to make out with Harry, obviously.

As Louis was carrying the latest photos to his desk in the corner of the room, the fell out of his hands (clumsiness) and scattered everywhere. Instead of helping, Harry laughed at Louis. Louis shot another glare, but he was pretty sure those glares weren’t even glares anymore. Glares have turned into flirtatious movements for Louis and he doesn’t know how.

“Fuck you. Are you going to help?” Louis exasperated. He tried to carry thirty pictures at a time and nearly dropped them again. “Never mind. Got them all.” Louis picked every single one of them up individually as Harry sat and watched. Asshole.

“Why’re you even sticking around? I don’t know what you’re waiting for.” Louis says. But Louis does know what he’s waiting for.

“You do know what I’m waiting for.” Harry said back, chuckling slightly. “Or are you scared of liking someone?” Harry added.

“Who said I liked you, Harry Styles.”

“I can tell. Just like you can tell I think you’re just as hot as you think I am.” By this point Louis’s heart was actually beating a little bit faster than it normally should be, and Louis didn’t know why. Louis backed up into his desk, away from Harry, but Harry was still close. Much, much too close. Louis still hadn’t figured out why he as breathing so fast, as he was expecting this since yesterday. But it was and for once Louis felt like a school-boy afraid to kiss a crush. But he wasn’t afraid. He wanted it. He just didn’t know how to get it.

“You think I’m hot.” Louis stated.

“I think you’re hot.” Harry confirmed. “And you think I’m hot. Age is just a number. Kiss me.”

“What, mmmmph,” Louis’s mouth happened to be right against Harry’s. There was a gap between Louis and Harry, a small gap, and now there wasn’t, and Louis was kissing Harry and Harry was kissing Louis. But it wasn’t the type of sweet kiss you see in the movies, it was the type of kiss the screamed I want you, now. Now now now now. And that’s exactly what Louis wanted. Now Harry was dragging Louis onto the floor, for God sakes, and kissing him with Louis under Harry. One of Harry’s hands goes to the small of Louis’s back, drawing him closer. “D’you mind me being on top of you?” Harry asked Louis, breathing heavily and holding a funny smile that wasn’t a smirk this time, Louis didn’t know what it was.

“Fucking hell, Harry, it doesn’t matter,” though Louis was being crushed under the weight of Harry he was much too turned on to care.

Then they were kissing again, lips sliding together and tongues colliding in wet and rough kisses, not at all gentle but more so filled with want— more like need, because if Louis didn’t get what he needed in a matter of ten minutes he was going to lose it. Harry’s hands were soon groping Louis’s bottom in small motions and Louis caught himself squirming under the younger boy. God, Louis can’t believe he’s doing this. Fucking hell, he can’t believe it. What is he even doing? God, Harry’s just slid his hands up Louis’s shirt and now he’s rubbing the Louis’s back and fuck. 

“Do you want me?” Harry breathed.

“Jesus, yes, Harry. I want you.” That was all the confirmation Harry needed.

Harry slid from Louis’s face to the hem of his jeans, smiling up at Louis in a devilish sort of way that made Louis want to basically punch him in the face but at the same time so many other things Louis couldn’t even think. Before Louis knew it, his jeans were flung across the room to God knows where, and he's left in his boxers, and is already hard, almost to the point of embarrassment but at this point Louis doesn't really care. Harry’s looking very pleased with himself as he pulls off Louis’s boxers, smiling to himself and eyeing Louis suggestively as he did so. “Someone’s anxious.” Harry commented.

Louis felt the need to laugh at that moment, a loud chuckle escaping his lips. “Maybe-” Louis’s cut off from his own awfully high-pitched moan as Harry takes him down in one smooth and very much wet motion, and Louis forgot what he was even going to say in the first place. Hell, he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten his own name.

The shock of Harry’s one movement courses through Louis’s whole body, his torso arches forward, curved around Harry’s face and neck and Louis probably looks like an idiot right now.

Louis didn’t know what he was expecting; he just sort of assumed that today this was going to happen and he didn’t think about what it was going to be like. But it definitely wasn’t this. Harry’s nose is actually touching against his stomach and Louis is nearly doing everything he can’t not to moan loudly enough for people outside of this room to hear.

Louis realizes that he’s nearly shoving Harry with his hand and almost feels the need to say sorry, but he can barely speak right now and if he did it would only come out in loud moans. Louis isn’t even thinking as Harry starts doing something with his tongue and fuck, Louis has to look away from Harry, because watching the drag of Harry’s lips around Louis is all but too much and Louis didn’t want this to end any time soon.

Harry continued in to slow, long pulls and Harry’s hands starts to grip Louis’s thighs. Louis swears he feels the curve of a smile as Harry almost pulls almost all the way off but starts sucking hard once more, and this time Louis can’t help to control the moan that escapes his lips, but fuck, he doesn’t care. Louis took both hands to tangle into Harry’s hair, tugging on strands restlessly as he arches his back. Harry is holding Louis’s thighs, gripping them and Louis wasn’t even sure what Harry was doing with his mouth anymore but Louis liked it so much he thinks he might explode.

Louis feels his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat, and the tight wet heat of it is all too much for Louis. “Fuck,” was all Louis could manage to say “fuck.” Louis’s voice sounded wrecked. Louis doesn’t warn Harry but it didn’t matter because Harry had swallowed around Louis as he comes. Harry pulled away, drops of Louis’s come dripping at the edge of his lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harry.” Louis muttered breathlessly. “Fuck.”

\- 

Since that day, Louis and Harry had snuck around during photo shoots to mess around nearly every day Harry was there. Nobody seemed to be catching on just yet and that was good because Zayn would rip his fucking head off. There were moments when some people were suspicious when Louis would appear messy haired and shirt untucked from his office, following a minute after Harry, who managed to stay decent looking while Louis stayed a fucking mess the whole day.

Louis and Harry also did endless amounts of flirting. Not the flirting that Louis was easily annoyed with, but the real kind.

Louis had no fucking idea how he’d managed to have Harry go down on him when they barely knew each other, but he wasn’t complaining. Louis didn’t even think they had to know each other to have fun. Or at least, that’s what Louis had thought until a post-orgasmic Harry had mumbled breathlessly, next to Louis, “we should go out on a date.”

“What?” Louis said blankly, too caught up in the minutes before to even think straight.

“We should go on a date.”

“Like..” Louis was really struggling to think like a normal human being. “Like a real date?”

“Yes.” Harry laughed, “like a real date.”

“I don’t.. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Louis wasn’t good with getting attached to people, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it now especially since things were great enough the way they were. Harry would come for a photo shoot, and Louis would admire how unfairly hot he looked in suits, and then Harry would change from the clothing and they would escape to Louis’s office for the rest of the day. Louis was fine with this arrangement; no, he was great with it. He didn’t want it becoming official. Louis isn’t the “make it official” type of person anyways.

“Too bad. We’ve been fucking for nearly a month now and it would be weird not to get to know each other.”

“What happened to the cocky asshole who was okay with only fucking a week ago,” Louis moaned, “you should know by now I’m not okay with attachments and getting close to people.”

“By now you should see we’re already closer than you wanted.” Louis saw what he meant, after all they were lying naked in the middle of Harry’s office.

“But I’m okay with this.”

“Yet you’re not okay with something more?” Harry was frowning by this point, “I don’t understand you. Wouldn’t it be better that way?”

“No, it most certainly wouldn’t.”

“Oh well. I’m going to make you. And if we have nothing other than sexual chemistry, we can go your way, yeah?” Louis wondered how it had gotten to his point, and he wasn’t really sure if he liked the fact that it was to this point. Louis was pretty sure he didn’t like it.

Two days later, Harry was waiting outside of Louis’s flat. “How did you even figure out where I lived?” Louis asked, stepping outside and following Harry to what looked like his car.

“You told me. I listened.” As they got in Harry’s car, Louis examined it.

“A Corvette. Interesting.” Louis commented, running his finger along the edge of the seat, feeling leathery on his fingers. “I didn’t know this way your type of car.”

“It’s a piece of shit. But sure.” Harry shrugged.

Harry drove to what seemed to be the London Park. As Louis stepped out fo the car, he was nearly laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. “London Park. How much cheesier can you get?” This was surely not the Harry Louis had been experiencing for months now.

“You’re a fucking ass. Do you understand the concept of romance?”

“You talk of romance as you say the four words ‘you’re a fucking ass’. Okay.” Louis was laughing again. London Park. Louis really hate dates. But he didn’t know if he hated this. He just thought it was hysterical and it was probably pissing Harry off. “What’re we doing, anyway?” Watching the birds fly, pointing out shapes in clouds..?” Now Louis was making fun of Harry.

“No. We’re going to walk because you’re fat.” Harry wasn’t serious, no, but it was to get him to shut up for a bit so he could talk. Louis shut up. “Anyway, yeah. Walking. I’m not good with dates. So this is what I came up with. It’d be an easy way to get to know you, as well.”

“Sure it would.” Louis erupted into laughter again. Cheesy. Harry was cheesy.

By the end of this date Louis has learned lots of things about Harry, other than his preference in fucking. Louis learned that Harry’s making to be a science teacher, as he’s been interested in science since he was little, and he liked to learn new things. He learned his favorite color was red, because his favorite condiment his ketchup. Of course, Louis disagrees, mustard happened to be the way to go. Louis also learned he has one sister names Gemma, and he hates math and close-minded people. Louis too learned that Harry has a thing for singing and was even once in a band called White Eskimo, but that it never did set off. Louis told Harry he’d also had a phase in singing but it didn’t come to be anything either. And Louis told Harry a lot of things, too. A lot more than he normally would, and he didn’t mind it. Louis wasn’t good with opening up to people but somehow this was okay. Maybe better than okay.

As the date came to an end, Louis almost didn’t want to leave. “Are you going to kiss me on the cheek too or can I just leave?” Louis was still teasing Harry about London Park.

“I think we’re far past kissing on the cheeks,” Harry mumbled, and that made Louis hope he could yank him into Louis’s flat and have his way with him right there, but instead he said, “sure.” And his lips wre against Louis’s cheek.

“Fuck that.” Louis exclaimed, smashing his lips to Harry’s at the front of his flat door, Louis’s back was against his door while Harry was pressed up against Louis.

“It seems you have a thing for bad words, Louis Tomlinson.”

“It seems you have a thing for talking when I want to kiss you, Harry Styles.” And then Louis was being kissed again.

\- 

From that day on Harry and Louis had been on six dates, all consisting in a time span of three weeks. Louis was still in shock of how they’d even gotten to that point, but by now he was willing to except that it’s okay to let people as hot as Harry into your life.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Harry had said after the sixth date, and it took a second for Louis to think.

“Now I’m going to sound cheesy but, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve made me ‘less of a bitter asshole’ (and I quote from Zayn). That must be a good thing and I don’t mind being happy, you could say. So yeah. Yeah, I will.”

“Wasn’t cheesy. but I accept it.” Harry smiled. “I’m ‘not as cocky and annoying’ (and I quote from you, two hours ago),” Harry laughed, and Louis had said that.

“To be fair we were both kind of annoying in the beginning.”

“Sure, yeah. I guess I was annoying. Does smirking still annoy you now?”

“No. I’m used to it. But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Then I’ll hold back from my smiling,” Harry says with a smile, “but on one condition.”

“And what might that be?” Louis questioned, but was nearly positive he already knew the answer. God, Louis actually liked someone. Someone annoying as hell sometimes, but Jesus, he really, really liked Harry.

“Kiss me.”

“That’s a dumb condition, you knew I was going to do it,” was the last thing Louis said before kissing Harry, hard, the first of many kisses as a couple.


End file.
